Pendulum
by paperbkryter
Summary: The "gang" contempate their futures. This was my very first Smallville Fanfic. Please apply the usual disclaimers


Pendulum  
  
  
  
  
Back beyond the rolling fields of the Kent farm, past acres of corn, and soybeans, and rows and rows of vegetables and fruit trees, the river into which Lex Luthor once drove his Porsche , slowed its rambling pace to a trickle. It tumbled gently past high banks cut deep in the earth by time, flanked by trees that had seen generations pass. Far into the wood it took a turn, and swelled out on one side into a deep and still pool of some renown in the town of Smallville. This silent body of water, over-hung by ancient oak trees and fragrant pines, far below the sandy banks, was the Kent Family Swimming Hole. Next to the heated extravagance of the Luthor mansion's indoor, it was the most exclusive swimming pool in town. Only personal invitation allowed one access, and only in the company of a member of the family.  
  
On a stifling hot day in August both Chloe Sullivan and Peter Ross considered themselves extremely privledged to have such access. Chloe was bound and determined to accomplish an enviable tan in the fashion of all the popular girls (though she was loathe to admit it) by summer's end. Pete was just plain hot. Chloe wanted to sun-bathe away from prying eyes, and Pete just wanted a good dunking. Clark's phone call early that morning had been a blessing to both of them and they had quickly made plans to join the fun that afternoon. Chloe arrived with a basket of sun tan lotion, books and a radio. Pete just arrived.   
  
The music blared from Chloe's radio as she lay on the grassy bank beside the pool. The little flat clearing that overlooked the deepest part of the pool served many purposes. It served as parking, the opening being the only place wide enough for a car to get through the woods; a diving board, as the bank was slightly undercut beneath it; and because it was the only place along the river's edge for miles that got full sun, it was the place to soak in the rays. Chloe basked like a crocodile, stretched out on a towel, as the light danced in the suntan oil spread on her skin with little iridescent shimmers. Her sun abused nose, burnt and peeled several times during her summer outings, was slathered in white globules of SPF 120 sunblock. She scratched carefully at it, turned a page in her book, and once again questioned her priorities. Cancer or a date for homecoming? For now, a date took precedence.  
  
Chloe turned another page, and a shadow passed over her. A moment later, it passed again. After a third and a fourth time her sun was interrupted, she rolled over and squinted up into the air above the pool. Beside her was a huge oak whose branches were thick and hung high over the river, and from one relatively low branch hung another well known landmark in Smallville. It had been there for at least three generations in some form or another, and in this generation it was in the form of a thick twist of rope and an old tractor tire: a tire swing. It was at least eight feet above the pool, and at the apex of its upward swing, that distance could be more than doubled. The trick was getting it going that high, and then letting go at just the right moment to dive into the water below. Hiram Kent and his son Jonathan had been very familiar with that particular trick. Clark Kent perfected it.  
  
Clad in a pair of cut off jeans and a tan that made Chloe ill, Clark stood on the top arc of the tire and hung on with both hands to the rope. As the swing hit the top of its apex and started back down towards the tree he bent his knees and put his full weight into his legs, pushing the tire away from him and increasing the swings' momentum. The rope creaked as it strained against the pull of Clark's strength, and high above the branch groaned in protest; but he knew its limits and didn't push them past the breaking point. Instead he whipped through the air, rising high towards the northern stretch of the river, and then back down towards the water on his way up into the southern sky. As he soared up into the blue sky his body came between the sun and Chloe, creating the disrupting shadow. To further provoke her he let go of his precarious perch with one hand and one foot, standing spread eagled as he flowed back past her.   
  
"Clark stop it! You're going to kill yourself!"   
  
He laughed, grabbed the rope again, and gave a push that sent him twisting up above the treetops. The rope looped, snapped taut, and brought him back. "Chicken!" He called.   
  
"Damn straight." Chloe muttered as she heard Pete laughing from below her.   
  
Pete was floating in the water on his back, watching Clark swing above him. He was also familiar with the swing trick, but was not quite as expert at it as the Kent men. Nine times out of ten he failed to get the right height, let go at the wrong time, and hit the water in an unglamorous and frequently painful belly flop. As hot as it was, and as much effort as it took to get the heavy tire going, Pete was perfectly content to soak in the cool water and let Clark play at Olympic Tire Swing Diving. All Pete had to worry about was getting the heck out of the way when Clark finally grew tired of torturing Chloe and decided to let go.   
  
"Hey Pete!" Chloe's blond head appeared over the edge of the bank. "What's that?" She laughed and pointed to the swing.  
  
"I dunno? A bird?"   
  
Chloe laughed. "No! A Plane!" She called.   
  
Clark swung up over them. The rope snapped taut. "Cannonball!" He screamed, and let go.   
  
Chloe shrieked, and Pete splashed into a dive to get out of the way.   
  
High above the river pool, framed by the treetops against the bright blue sky, Clark hung suspended in mid air. He closed his eyes, and for that breath of a moment he knew the ecstasy of flight. He felt the warmth of the sun beating against his skin, the wind rifling his hair, and the undulating currents of air that rose and fell from the land and water below him. His racing heart swelled, felt as if it would burst, and he drank in the sensation like a drunkard with a long denied bottle of wine. There could be nothing better than this, he thought. Nothing.   
  
Then it was gone. The tug of gravity called him, dragging him down. Opening his eyes he saw the water coming towards him, and pulled his long limbs in tight towards his body. Speeding towards the surface of the pool in a tucked up, hard, knot of flesh and bone, Clark hit with the force of the cannonball he mimicked. The water shattered into a plume of droplets that sprayed upwards and outwards for yards. Chloe, and everything she had with her were summarily soaked. A miniature tidal wave bowled Pete under, but he came up howling with laughter, joined a moment later by the cannonball himself.   
  
"Well. If you can't beat 'em." Chloe thought, and with a Tarzan yell, she launched herself off the bank and into the water. Serious attempts to drown each other ensued.   
  
*********************************   
  
  
Clark, Chloe and Pete lay on the warm grass slowly drying out after their swim. Chloe, disillusioned with the whole tanning project, sat cross-legged with her book in her hands trying to dry out the stuck together pages. Occasionally she would stop and throw grass at Clark, whom she held responsible for the ruination of her novel, and this would make him laugh. It was hard to stay angry with Clark when he laughed, primarily because he did it so rarely and because he looked so damn cute with his hair an unruly mess and his dimples popping.   
  
"You owe me a book." She growled, and slapped his arm.   
  
Pete chuckled as Chloe now nursed a stinging palm in addition to a ruined book and a sunburn.   
  
"Its hard to believe another summer is almost over." He said, echoing what Clark was thinking, a common occurrence between the two. Clark often wondered if Pete weren't psychic.  
  
"Soon we'll be suffering through another school year."  
  
"Don't remind me." Clark sighed, and lay back with his hands laced behind his head. He felt restless, as he usually did after a long day out in the sun, almost as if he'd consumed too much caffeine. Perhaps after Chloe and Pete went home he'd go for a run. A real run. A nice zip around the farm a few times would hit the spot.   
  
"Oh yeah, like school is torture for you Mr. M.I.T."   
  
Sitting up, Clark focused upon his friend the cool grey eyed stare that Pete found more than a little disconcerting. "How did you find out about that?" He demanded, as Pete squirmed uncomfortably.  
  
"Your mom told my mom."  
  
"Wait, hold up. There is news here that I've missed?" Chloe, in true journalistic fashion, immediately abandoned her book in favor of a potential scoop on the hot gossip front. "Spill it Pete." She shot Clark her own icy blue gaze, which had the effect of cowing him immediately. He lapsed into a pout.   
  
Pete was more than happy to put Clark on the spot and to spill the proverbial beans, especially to Chloe, who would have the news around town before the end of the day. Pete tended to brag a little bit on Clark, who would not do it for himself. Despite the fact that he often felt hidden in Clark's shadow at times, Pete, and he was not the only one, felt Clark deserved alot more recognition than he received; and any recognition Clark received could conceivably result in more recognition of his best pal; i.e. Pete himself.   
"Clark got a letter from M.I.T. Not only are they considering him for their gifted high school student program, but he could get a free ride with a full scholarship."  
  
"Whoa-ho!" Chloe turned to look down at her prone companion, her eyes brightening. "And when were you going to enlighten the rest of us regarding this important development? M.I.T! Boston! New England in the Springtime! And more importantly, a hot ticket out of this hic town!"   
  
Clark raised his head. "Hey. I happen to like this hic town..."  
  
"You also eat maple syrup on cottage cheese Clark."  
  
"There's nothing wrong with that!"   
  
Pete made a face. "Yes there is."  
  
Chloe gestured to Pete, raising her eyebrows in an "I told you so." expression. "You cannot be seriously suggesting that you would stay in Smallville as opposed to taking a full scholarship to one of the most prestigious technical colleges in the world are you? If so I am diving in the river to look for meteor rocks because your brain has been addled by something."  
  
"Maple syrup on cottage cheese." Came Pete's suggestion.   
  
"I would be perfectly content with Kansas State or Metropolis Tech." Clark lay back down and studied the sky. There was not a cloud in sight. "Kansas State has an excellent science department and their school of agriculture is renown. I could help dad during the summer...."  
  
"Pete. Am I here? Am I hearing these words? Did he just more or less just say he was going to study farming?"  
  
"You can't be a farmer Clark."   
  
"Why not? Somebody has to run the place."  
  
"Because you can't." Chloe leaned over him, her arms resting on his chest, her face suddenly very serious. "You are too big for this place Clark. You are not destined to spend your days shoveling manure and riding a tractor."  
  
He laughed at her. "What, you're a seer now Chloe?"  
  
She ignored him. "You belong up there Clark, in the stars, making discoveries. Not tied down to the land. That's a farmer. You are not meant to be a farmer."  
  
His voice, when he found it, was very soft. "How do you know?"  
  
"I see the stars in your eyes."   
  
For a moment they stared at each other. Clark's mind wildly tried to comprehend if Chloe was hinting that she knew the truth of his origins, before he opened his mouth and blurted out something incriminating. Chloe simply admired the blush creeping up into Clark's cheeks and the stormy sea green of his eyes and knew the truth of her own statements. He'd never be content to stay in Smallville forever. He was too much like her.   
  
Pete broke the moment. "You could be destined to develop warp drive."   
  
Chloe sat back and Clark raised his head again. "What?"  
  
"You know, to power spaceships."   
  
Rolling her eyes, Chloe fell back into the grass. "Pete, you watch too much television."   
  
"Warp drive on a tractor could be handy." Clark sat up, brushing the grass out of his hair and gave Pete a grin. "Mr. Ross, warp 4 through the bean field."  
  
"Aye aye Captain Kent."   
  
"Is that a Klingon in the apple orchard?"  
  
"I believe it is sir, shall I ready the manure torpedo?"  
  
"You may proceed when ready."   
  
Much to Chloe's disgust both boys burst into a chorus of "explosion" sound effects.   
  
"Seriously," Clark said finally, after the alien invader had been blasted out of the apple orchard. "I don't know what I'm going to do Chloe, or where I'm going to go. It was just a letter expressing interest. There's no guarantee I'll be accepted. I have three more years of high school anyway. Anything could happen in three years." He fell silent. "Anything." He thought to himself. "I could sprout tentacles and grow a tail for God's sake." As if seeing through walls and occasionally floating weren't enough.   
  
Clark was beginning to sympathize with the Klingon.   
  
"What does your big brother say about the M.I.T. inquiry?" Chloe asked, rolling onto her stomach and selecting a blade of grass. She stretched it between thumb and forefinger and blew through it to produce a shrill cry like that of a wounded parrot. It made Clark wince.  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"Your spiritual advisor in all things Lana; your shiny headed patron of love lore; he of the fast cars and faster women; the purple clad wizard of the all mighty buck...."  
  
"I get the point Chloe." Clark scowled as Pete chuckled. "I did happen to mention it to Lex...."  
  
"And...."  
  
"He told me to major in chemistry and he'd give me a job."  
  
"Typical." Chloe whistled through her blade of grass again.  
  
"Will you stop that, my ears are bleeding -- I could make good money working for LuthorCorp and I could stay in Smallville."  
  
"And give your dad a coronary." Pete added solemnly. "You know he'd blow a gasket if you even hinted at the idea of working for the Luthors." His face broke into a broad grin. "I know why you are so reluctant to leave. One word - Laaahhhnaaaahhh."  
  
"Well there is that." Clark replied in response to both statements. He grinned.   
  
"You'd give up a promising career and possibly the Nobel Prize for Lana Lang? Now I know you've lost your mind Clark." Chloe shook her head.   
  
Pete smirked. "Get her. First you are a rocket scientist, now you've won the Nobel Prize."  
  
"I just do not picture Clark bouncing babies on one knee and singing Rock-a-Bye with Lana"  
  
"Why not?"   
  
"Because...."   
  
Clark suddenly decided he'd had enough. He was not ready to make the decisions that would take him away from home. His life now was too full of uncertainty. Part of him wanted to know more about himself, his origins, his powers - but at the moment a much larger part was cowering in the corner with a blanket over its head. Smallville was safe haven. To leave meant to face the truth; acknowledge that he was different, and that the serene domestic portrait of bouncing babies and lullabyes was probably not going to be part of his future. He was not ready for the end of summer, let alone the end of his innocence. He no longer wished to participate in the discussion.  
  
Clark interrupted the heated debate between Chloe and Pete without uttering a sound. In one fluid movement he was on his feet with Chloe dangling from his hand by one slim ankle. Despite her struggles and her wild shrieks of protest, he casually dropped her head first off the bank and into the water.   
  
Pete was tossed in after.  
  
************************************  
  
The sun was setting. It hung low in the western sky, spreading a golden aura over the tops of the trees along the river bank. In the east the light powder blue of the sky was darkening to a deeper, richer shade and the first faint glimmerings of stars could be seen. The birds were settling in the treetops, and below them the little frogs tuned up for the evening symphony. A lone raccoon shuffled along the bank, feeling about for dinner in the shallow water.   
  
Pete and Chloe had long gone home for dinner, and Clark was long past due for his own. He'd heard, well over an hour earlier, his mother's voice echoing across the fields as she called him but in a mild fit of rebellion, he'd ignored it. Instead he remained alone at the riverside watching the sun go down from high upon his perch on the old tire swing. He swung slowly, letting the rope twist and spin, lazily drifting over the dark, still, water below. As he silently contemplated the stars, he indulged in what Martha Kent called his "mopes". He could not, he realized, put off making some sort of decisions about his future for very much longer. He swung, and his heart ached.   
  
The soft blowing of a horse was what drew Clark from his silent contemplation and his eyes towards the little clearing along the bank. For a moment he thought he was dreaming, and he stared, in wide eyes silence, at the figure framed in the tree lined opening of the path.   
  
She was an Indian princess all clad in white: from her white halter to the soft cotton pedal pushers. Long black hair in two slim braids hung over shoulders tanned brown from the summer sun, and her green eyes were dark and luminous like the water of the pool in the waning light. She sat the piebald horse bareback, with bare feet dangling along its sides. As her mount lowered its head to graze upon the grass, she raised hers to the sky and graced Clark with a smile so sweet he very nearly lost his grip on the rope. In that moment he had never in his life seen anything more beautiful than she.   
  
Her voice echoed slightly over the water. "Your mother sent me."   
  
Clark was jolted back to reality. He blinked, muttered a curse, and realized that he was probably going to catch hell for not only missing dinner, but shirking his chores as well. He let the swing slow to a near halt and started hand over hand up the rope to the tree branch above his head. "She mad?"  
  
"Mildly." Lana dropped the reins and leaned on the mares withers as she watched Clark walk across the branch back towards the tree trunk. "She saw me out riding and asked if I minded making sure drowning wasn't on today's agenda. She did mention that you might wish you had."  
  
From among the branches there came a groan. Lana smiled.  
  
Clark dropped lightly down from the tree and stooped to pick up his t-shirt from where it lay in a wrinkled ball in the bushes. He pulled it over his head and attempted to smooth out the wrinkles with very little success. Failing that, he ran his hands through his still damp hair in an effort to tame the unruly waves hanging down over his forehead, but that was no more successful. By the time he reached Lana he'd given up trying to make any sort of amends to his appearance and simply favored her with a pleasant smile.   
  
Not that she was looking.   
  
Instead, Lana's gaze was still focused on the tire swing, which hung still against the ever darkening sky. "These days will be over soon." She said quietly. "Days of pig-tails and tire swings."   
  
"I suppose." Clark twisted his fingers in the paint's long mane and rubbed her shoulder as he stood beside her. Her soft coat was warm beneath his hand - comforting. He looked inquiringly up at Lana.   
  
"Whitney got confirmation of his scholarship. He's heading to Kansas State this fall to play football." She turned her gaze down to Clark. "He has visions of playing for the Sharks one day. I heard you're headed for Boston."   
  
Clark scowled. "Chloe..."  
  
"Actually no, it was Nell. People are talking Clark. Its a big deal." She favored him with a wry smile. "Drawbacks of living in a small town, everyone knows everyone else's business."  
  
"Thank God that's not entirely true." He thought, and said aloud: "I got a letter. They're recruiting. Its not a big deal. I won't be going anywhere, at least for a while."   
  
"But you will, eventually..."  
  
"I may surprise you."  
  
"You always surprise me Clark." She said, and they shared a smile, briefly. "But you will leave, and Whitney will be gone too. I'll have lost both my boyfriend and my best friend."   
  
Clark cocked his head, and braced himself as the mare paused in her grazing to rub her nose along his leg. "I thought you had plans for Kansas State yourself?"  
  
Lana sighed deeply. "I don't know. I don't know what I want anymore Clark. I thought I did, but now - things keep changing, moving too fast. I'm not an athlete, I'm not a scholar. I don't know what I am, nor really, who I am, and until I figure that out I'm not ready to face the future."  
  
"I can understand that." Clark said softly. He chose his words carefully. "I'm not sure I know who I am either. Nobody our age does Lana, and being talented in football, or getting good grades, those things don't help. In fact, they make it harder because you find yourself always trying to live up to someone else's expectations. You have more freedom than Whitney, or I do. You can go where you want to go and do what you want to do and most importantly - be who you want to be without constraint." He paused. "I know you'll find your way Lana. I believe in you."   
  
Lana met his gaze, quickly lowered her eyes again. "If you left here Clark, where would you want to go?"   
  
"I dunno. I guess I'd like to see more of the world. Travel to Europe, go on safari in Africa." He grinned as she chuckled. "But I always picture myself back in Kansas eventually. "  
  
"Like Dorothy?"  
  
"There's no place like home." He agreed and after a moment: "Where do you want to go?"  
  
"Anywhere but here." Lana stated. Her voice took on a slight tremor. "Sometimes I feel like this town is suffocating me, sucking the life right out of me." She paused and bit her lip. Respecting her, Clark glanced away, turning his attention to smoothing the silken mane beneath his fingers. After a moment he heard Lana sigh, and slowly raised his eyes to find she had regained her composure.   
  
"But then," She continued. "You or Whitney or Nell always seem to rescue me." Her eyes were bright as she took in the quiet woods all around them. She again met Clark's gaze, but this time held it. "Do you believe in me Clark?"   
  
"Yes." He whispered. "We'll find our paths you and I, I'm sure of it. And if I have to come all the way from Boston to do it, I will always be here to rescue you. I promise."   
  
The mare shook her head, the bridle jingling, and Clark found himself wanting nothing more than to reach up and pull Lana into his arms. He could easily do it. He wanted to do it.   
  
He didn't do it.  
  
Lana laughed then, and the moment was shattered. "Yeah, but you'll be late." She said. "Your mother is going to kill us both if you don't get home." She picked up the reins in one hand, and held the other out to Clark. "Come on."   
  
He hesitated, then took her warm hand and swung up behind her. The mare sidled sideways at the addition of his weight, but quickly adjusted. At Lana's request to "hang on" he happily obliged by putting his hands upon her slim waist as she turned the mare towards the path and the fields beyond. As they left the woods they could see the lights of the Kent's house in the distance and the peaked roofs of the barns beyond it. The sky was a deep indigo, with only the palest streaks of pink and gold at the far horizon, and the stars were sprinkled liberally across the darkness above. Lana gave the paint mare a little squeeze, and she moved out into a smooth canter, carrying her passengers home, each stride one more step towards the future. 


End file.
